Exciting Night

Must have been something I ate. I remember bits of dreams, sometimes, but about once a month I get one intact, a couple of pattern-dreams, perched on really bad scaffolding is one, and another always concerns being lost and walking endlessly. But last night this massive apocalyptic dream, everything, literally, falling apart, and me standing there, watching, flat affect, looking autistic. Woke up in a sweat. Never happened to me before. Get up early and fix a huge breakfast. I'm staff at the museum today, 1 to 5, but when it starts raining I head out, errands to run and then can read in a climate-controlled closed museum, a very good place to read. I sit in the Library for several hours, reading, go out back once an hour, watch the traffic and have a smoke. Beautiful Holly of the new tattoo drives by and flips a Queen Wave out her window, Howard is walking over from Covert's Furniture right then, says -who's that- -a waitress from the pub- I tell him -and the smartest of the lot-. I know that period should be inside the hyphen, but that's really not the way I read it. I do well with convention up to a certain point and then I completely lose it, a Deep South Democrat, Libertarian, Non-Religious but for the rituals I employ to actually write, person. One thing the dream was saying is that I'm don't do enough, I've got to keep after those weeds. I don't do much, but you have to remember, I don't make much money. Filthy lucre: don't make me quote Pound, XLV in The Cantos. One of my favorite poems, on the list of poems that I bookmark, so I don't have to search. It's a particularly good bookmark, I remember where it came from. There are hundreds of these Claymores, set about the house, set to explode memory; whenever I notice anything I mark it, habit, I might need to reference it again, and when I do remember, the floodgates open. What I thought I remembered. A spillway of useless knowledge or a vein of ore, I mine them equally. I'm what you might call an opportunistic miner, I tend toward the obvious, however counter-intuitive it might seem. However incorrect. Lord knows I was that yesterday, when I called D's attention to my side of the railing to watch the bobbing breasts of this bank employee. It's spring, I make no apology.